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sick. He was looking for that Krager fellow, and she helped him. Like I said, she offered him other services as well, but he turned her down – politely. She’s always been a bit disappointed in him about that.’
    ‘You and I are going to have a long talk about this, Sparhawk,’ Ehlana said ominously.
    ‘As your Majesty wishes,’ he sighed as she swept coolly from the room.
    ‘She doesn’t know very much about the real world, does she, Sparhawk?’
    ‘It’s her sheltered upbringing.’
    ‘I thought you were the one who brought her up.’
    ‘That’s right.’
    ‘Then you’ve only got yourself to blame. I’ll have Naween stop by and explain it all to her.’
    ‘Are you out of your mind?’
    Talen came in from Demos the next day, and he rode into the courtyard with Sir Berit. Sparhawk and Khalad met them at the stable door. The prince consort was making some effort to be inconspicuous until such time as the queen’s curiosity about Naween diminished. Talen’s nose was red, and his eyes looked puffy. ‘I thought you were going to stay at the farm until you got over that cold,’ Sparhawk said to him.
    ‘I couldn’t stand all that mothering,’ Talen said, slipping down from his saddle. ‘One mother is bad enough, but my brothers and I have two now. I don’t think I’llever be able to look another bowl of chicken soup in the face again. Hello, Khalad.’
    ‘Talen,’ Sparhawk’s burly young squire grunted. He looked critically at his half-brother. ‘Your eyes look terrible.’
    ‘You ought to see them from in here.’ Talen was about fifteen now, and he was going through one of those ‘stages’. Sparhawk was fairly certain that the young thief had grown three inches in the past month and a half. A goodly amount of forearm and wrist stuck out of the sleeves of his doublet. ‘Do you think the cooks might have something to eat?’ the boy asked. As a result of his rapid growth, Talen ate almost constantly now.
    ‘I’ve got some papers for you to sign, Sparhawk,’ Berit said. ‘It’s nothing very urgent, but I thought I’d ride in with Talen.’ Berit wore a mail shirt, and he had a broadsword belted at his waist. His weapon of choice, however, was still the heavy war-axe slung to his saddle.
    ‘Are you going back to the chapterhouse?’ Khalad asked him.
    ‘Unless Sparhawk has something he wants me for here.’
    ‘I’ll ride along with you then. Sir Olart wants to give us more instruction with the lance this afternoon.’
    ‘Why don’t you just unhorse him a few times?’ Berit suggested. ‘Then he’ll leave you alone. You could do it, you know. You’re already better than he is.’
    Khalad shrugged. ‘It’d hurt his feelings.’
    ‘Not to mention his ribs, shoulders and back,’ Berit laughed.
    ‘It’s a bit ostentatious to outperform your instructors,’ Khalad said. ‘The other novices are already a little sulky about the way my brothers and I have outstripped them. We’ve tried to explain, but they’re sensitive about the fact that we’re peasants. You know how that goes.’ Helooked inquiringly at Sparhawk. ‘Are you going to need me for anything this afternoon, my Lord?’
    ‘No. Go ahead on out and dent Sir Olart’s armour a bit. He’s got an exaggerated notion of his own skill. Give him some instruction in the virtue of humility.’
    ‘I’m really hungry, Sparhawk,’ Talen complained.
    ‘All right. Let’s go to the kitchen.’ Sparhawk looked critically at his young friend. ‘Then I guess we’ll have to send for the tailor again,’ he added. ‘You’re growing like a weed.’
    ‘It’s not my idea.’
    Khalad started to saddle his horse, and Sparhawk and Talen went into the palace in search of food. It was about an hour later when the two of them entered the royal apartment to find Ehlana, Mirtai and Danae sitting by the fire. Ehlana was leafing through some documents. Danae was playing with Rollo, and Mirtai was sharpening one of her daggers.
    ‘Well,’